


Porch Swing Angel

by WhyDoIWrite



Series: Conversations in the Dark [4]
Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F, She just needed a little nudge, Southern nights - Freeform, USWNT, porch swings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:15:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25852717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhyDoIWrite/pseuds/WhyDoIWrite
Summary: She can't not tell her.  She doesn't want to.  She's terrified of losing their friendship.  It wouldn't be worth it to lose her.  But also, the reward could be so, so great.
Relationships: Lindsey Horan/Emily Sonnett
Series: Conversations in the Dark [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1795090
Comments: 5
Kudos: 102





	Porch Swing Angel

**Conversations in the Dark**

**On a Porch Swing**

_Don’t you put on that makeup_  
_We ain’t going nowhere._  
_Let’s just sit on this porch swing_  
_We can take it from there_  
_It's the sound of the chain links_  
_As we rock 'til it's night_  
_And we can watch as the sun sets_  
_In hopes of holding you tight_

“What are you doing?” 

Kelley’s been rearranging all her gear and clothes, and Lindsey’s been eyeing her. It looks like she’s packing. Sort of. “I’m staying at Sonnett’s.”

Lindsey doesn’t quite know what she was expecting Kelley to say, but she didn’t expect _that_. More significant probably, she didn’t expect it to hit her in the chest like that. A solid, square hit. The kind that causes a dull pain. An ache that you know is going to last longer than expected. One that’s deep enough that you can’t quite touch it. Not a superficial hurt.

She thought Kelley had her own place in Atlanta. Why does she need to stay with Sonnett? Why hasn’t Sonnett asked _her_ to stay? She hasn’t even seen Sonnett’s place. And she gets it… they’ve been so busy with training and all their off-field sessions that with their early wake up calls, it didn’t make sense for Sonnett to stay at her loft and drive to the hotel to meet the bus in the mornings. Until now. Because their game tomorrow is late. And they don’t have an early wake up call. Finally. 

But out of everyone Sonnett could have asked to hang out with her outside of hotel life, she picked Kelley. _Everyone’s_ sick of hotel life. Lindsey’s sick of hotel life. They both could have hung out with Sonnett. Rose, too. They could have had a slumber party at Sonnett’s place and it would have been fun.

Like old times. 

Like when they played in Denver and stayed at Lindsey’s condo. Like when they played in Sandy and stayed at Kelley’s apartment.

But Kelley’s the only one going. Lindsey tries to find a way to make it make sense, but she can’t. She wants to ask why, but she doesn’t. She wants to scream _for what_? But she doesn’t. Maybe she’s too afraid of the answer.

Instead, she takes the easy route. Pops an ear bud in and turns back to the Arsenal game that she missed earlier. She’s always taken the easy route when it comes to Sonnett. Maybe that’s her problem.

The unknown puts her in a bad mood. The rest of the evening, into the morning, and into the change room prior to kick off. She’s short with Sonnett. She’s snaps at Kelley, more than once. She should be proud of her best friend, finally getting to start in her hometown, in front of her family and friends. Finally getting a start over Kelley, not a pity start, either, and not a start because Kelley isn’t 100%. A legit, hard-earned start. But knowing Kelley was at Sonnett’s place last night leaves Lindsey in a mood during the game, which translates into… not a poor game, but definitely not a standout game either. And that mood carries over after the game, too. The fact that they won seems insignificant.

She bites Kelley’s head off when Kelley asks her what her problem is.

“Come with me.” It’s stern. Not forceful, but Kelley’s definitely not playing around. 

Lindsey ignores her, digging back in her bag for some clean socks.

Kelley doesn’t do ignored. She grabs Lindsey, lightly, but firmly, by the elbow, and leads her out of the change room, into the hall, around the corner. And as much as she doesn’t want to go, Lindsey goes because she doesn’t want to be dragged. “What is this about?” Kelley demands to know.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lindsey says defiantly, refusing to meet Kelley’s eyes.

“You’ve been acting like this since I told you I was staying at Sonnett’s.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lindsey repeats, seething, and through her teeth.

“You think we’re fooling around.” Kelley’s never been one to mince words. She’s not going to start now. 

Lindsey hates the brutal honestly sometimes, hates that Kelley just _knows_. And why does Kelley see the feelings Lindsey’s been wearing on her sleeve while Sonnett is clueless? “You’re out of your mind. I don’t think that. And even if you are, it’s not my business.” It’s not. She knows that. And why should she even care if they are? They’re all adults. Kelley and Emily can do whatever they want. But she can’t help but care. She knows she cares because she feels that pit in her stomach and she thinks she’s going to be sick. It’s stupid. This is all so stupid. Feelings are stupid.

“Come with me,” Kelley says, for the second time that night, and this time, it’s gentler. She leads Lindsey down the hall and through a door that puts them out in the side of the stadium. “Lindsey, this is Kam. You might recognize her from, oh, I don’t know. The World Cup. The ESPYs. The Olympics. The time we played y’all in Portland last year. Remember?” It’s patronizing, but Lindsey deserves it.

Lindsey’s cheeks flush hot. She knows who Kam is. Doesn’t _know her_ , know her, but she knows of her enough to know that they’ve been together for a couple years now. In other words, she never should have assumed that Emily and Kelley were anything. 

But Kelley doesn’t stop there. She takes Kam hand and raises it up for Lindsey to see. There is a _rock_ on her left hand. “My fiancé.”

By now, Lindsey assumes her face is probably a deep crimson. She toes at the ground, clearly uncomfortable, wishing she could take it all back.

“Kell, what are you doing?” Kam asks, playfully exasperated, as she slides her arm around Kelley’s waist. “You haven’t even told anybody yet.”

“Oh, Lindsey here thought Sonny and I were hooking up. Just wanted to make sure she understands we’re not. You know, since she’s in love with her and all.”

Kam laughs. Kelley laughs. Lindsey sputters. “I’m- I’m- I’m not in love with her.”

Kelley ignores her. “We both stayed at her place last night.” Lindsey’s eyes widen. “Keep your mind outta the gutter, Horan. I sold my condo when I moved in with Kam. Sonnett’s is the only place I can spend time with her, without her getting a hotel. And Sonnett has a comfy mattress and those nice towels and real coffee, not that hotel shit. And just so you know, we’re spending the night tonight as well, though I think she said she’s going back to the hotel with the y’all.” Kelley leans over and kisses Kam on the cheek. “Lemme go get my bag, babe, and make sure she’s not coming with us.”

Lindsey begins slowly following Kelley back to the change room, shuffling her feet like a kid who’s in trouble. 

“You don’t have to worry about me, or anyone else, you know,” Kelley says quietly, dragging Lindsey even with her. “That kid only has eyes for you. It’s cute how jealous you got though. Feels like I should tell her.”

“Kelley!” But truly, Lindsey doesn’t know if that would make this all worse or not, because then at least she would have to say anything.

“Kidding. I would never. You should though.”

“I’m sorry,” Lindsey mumbles. 

“It’s all right.” Kelley throws an arm around her. “I know. But she doesn’t. And you should fix that. Because clearly it’s really bothering you. And who knows? Maybe it’s been bothering her, too.”

“I can’t.”

“Ok,” Kelley says with a shrug of the shoulders. “Maybe see about hanging out with her for a little bit then. Let her show you around Atlanta. I think she’d like that.”

Lindsey thinks about it. In the change room. On the bus ride back while Emily absentmindedly plays with her fingers. While she’s back in her room, alone again, packing for her flight tomorrow. Except for once, she really doesn’t want to go home. She misses her family. She doesn’t miss them the same way she misses Sonny. Two seasons away from her has taken its toll. She sits down on her bed and rubs her face. Maybe she should just go down to Sonny’s room and hang out.

She doesn’t have to.

There’s a knock at the door, and when she opens it, Sonnett’s standing there with two cups of tea. “Hey,” she says, and there’s this trepidation in her voice that’s not normally there, “can I come in?”

It’s weird of her to ask, to wait to be invited in. She always just pushes her way past Lindsey and throws herself on a bed. And maybe it’s that she’s trying to keep from spilling hot tea, but also, there’s worry on her face, at the corners of her lips and in her brow.

Lindsey steps out of her way, and Sonnett enters her room, rambling. “I know you’re a coffee person, but I also know you’re not going to drink hotel lobby coffee that’s like, been sitting there for hours. And it’s late anyway, I’m sure you want to sleep. But they had some decent tea choices downstairs, so…” she shrugs and shoves a cup into Lindsey’s hand.

“Thanks, Son,” Lindsey says quietly, and she watches Sonnett sit down on her bed. At least she doesn’t ask permission to do that. Or choose Kelley’s. 

“Are you ok?” Sonnett asks, looking up at her. “You’ve seemed… off… all day. So on edge. I- I- still worry about you.”

 _Still_. 

Lindsey knows what she means by that. They had such a connection when they played together almost year-round. When they spent all day at each other’s apartments. They’re still friends. They’re still _best_ friends, Lindsey thinks, because when it comes down to it, if there were something Lindsey couldn’t tell anyone else in the world, she’d tell Sonnett, and if she ever needed anything, Sonnett wouldn’t hesitate to fly across the country for her. But she feels it too. They can’t read each other like they used to could. They just don’t get enough time together when it’s only left up to national team duties. It doesn’t mean they care about each other any less, it just means, times like now, while Sonnett knows something’s bothering Lindsey, she doesn’t instinctively know what it is. 

If this had been two years ago, Sonnett would have seen the minute changes on Lindsey’s face when Kelley was too close to her, would have sensed the electric annoyance, and would have proceeded to harass her about it before quietly reminding her that Kelley will never rise higher than number two in her life. And maybe, just maybe, if Lindsey had felt these feelings two years ago, Emily would have felt them too, and just _known_. And then they wouldn’t be here now, with Emily, on edge, sitting on the bed, and Lindsey, on edge, leaning against the wall.

“Yeah, I’m fine. There’s just been – was – some stuff on my mind.” That explanation is no different than what it would have been in the past, so Lindsey takes comfort in knowing her vagueness isn’t influenced by their distance. She wouldn’t have been brave back then either.

“Ok,” Emily says, letting it go, and she relaxes, just enough.

“You packed?” Lindsey asks.

“Yeah, just finished a little bit ago.”

“Why didn’t you go home again tonight?”

“I don’t know, I was just too tired, I guess. Besides, it’s your last night here, and Kelley’s gone, so…” 

It’s not suggestive. But it could be.

Lindsey sits on the bed next to her. “Sleepover?” she asks.

There’s that Sonny grin. “Yeah! Let’s get Rose down here. It’ll be just like old times.”

Old times.

Old times were great, but Lindsey was hoping for new times.

And it is – good – like old times. 

They fall into the same laughter, the same teasing, the same inside jokes. The three of them really are the most solid trio since Alex/Kellie/Allie. Better than Pinoe/Ash/Ali, Lindsey thinks.

It’s nice.

It’s nice when Rose settles in on Kelley’s bed, and Emily stays on hers.

It’s nice when Rose doesn’t even bat an eye at Emily resting her head on Lindsey’s lap and Lindsey running her fingers through that soft, straw-colored hair. 

It’s nice when Rose, surprisingly, is the first one to drift off. She hardly ever is, always so late to bed that it would piss Dawn off. Always on her phone. Always outlasting them, most likely to prank them while they slept. The shit they’ve found packed in their suitcases, or rather that TSA has found in the security lines at airports, has been ridiculous. Embarrassing. Hilarious. Except for that time they almost missed the flight because they got pulled in for extra screening. But Rose hasn’t played 90 minutes in awhile, and she got 90 tonight. Besides, she lost interest not too long after the movie started.

Emily yawns as the movie begins to wind down. “We’ve seen the end, want me to turn it off?” Lindsey asks, and Emily nods. 

Emily snuggles her back against Lindsey and curls into herself, the way she always slept when it was chilly in Portland. It’s so familiar to Lindsey that it hurts. She waits a minute and then turns over into Emily, throwing her arm across the smaller woman’s body. Even though she knows it bugs her, makes her claustrophobic. Emily gives a little grunt, but doesn’t shake Lindsey off. She probably is genuinely cold. Rose turned the A/C on when she came in the room, even though it’s almost winter, the biting first winds starting to chill the Georgia air. “Hey, Em?” Lindsey whispers into her hair, “I was thinking about hanging out here for a couple more days.”

“Here? Like Atlanta?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Why?”

That wasn’t exactly the response Lindsey was expecting. “Well, you can say no if you want, I have no idea if you have plans with friends or family or whatever, but I was thinking we could spend some time together since we have a little break.”

“I mean, I don’t have plans til Thanksgiving, I guess.” It’s not exactly encouraging. It’s more along the lines of “I’m not busy, so whatever.” And Emily must sense that it bothers Lindsey because she backtracks. “I’d love for you to stay, but I was going to go to Marietta tomorrow. Spend some time with my parents.”

 _But_. That but hurts, too.

“You can come with though. You know my mom adores you. Me, too.”

Lindsey blushes. She wonders if Sonnett can feel the heat spreading through her body right now. Sonnett shrugs her off with another grunt. 

Lindsey cancels her flight. 

* * *

“I got us reservations at Spring. It was last-minute, but I still have some pull in this town,” Sonnett winks. “It’s this little place. Hard to get into, specially on a Saturday. Best restaurant in Marrietta by…”

Her voice trails off. Lindsey realizes her face must have given her away.

She would love to go to dinner with Sonnett… any other time. 

It’s cute actually, Sonnett using her fame to get them a table at a fancy restaurant… at least it would be if Lindsey would allow herself to think about it.

It’s almost like a date.

And Lindsey loves fancy restaurants and getting dressed up.

But now, all she wants to sit with Sonny and talk all night. Not in a restaurant. Somewhere comfy. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere alone. She’s had the chance to talk to Sonnett for days and hasn’t. She’s running out of time.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to, I just thought… have we been doing too much?” Sonnett asks nervously.

“No. I want to… I just also want to… to talk to you.”

“Linds, you can talk to me whenever you want. You can talk to me there. And it’s really good. It’s farm-to-table and they use…”

“I know, Son. I’ve heard Kelley talk about it before. I really appreciate the effort. Just… never mind. Let’s go. It’ll be great!” Lindsey tries to force a little enthusiasm into her voice for Sonnett’s benefit. She gets up, flips through Sonnett’s closet, and pull out a dress that’ll fit her, a little tightly, but it’ll be fine. She lays it out on the bed. She just needs a shawl.

She knows Sonnett’s watching her, she can feel her eyes burning into her back. She thinks _that_ connection may never go away. She heads into the bathroom, catching Sonnett’s eye as she goes. Still sitting there, still watching her intently, with her brow furrowed.

She’s just started rifling through her make up bag, when a hand rests lightly on her bicep, and then Sonnett’s there, hip leaning against the counter. “We don’t have to go.” Her voice is gentle. Kind. Understanding like it always is, even when she doesn’t understand. 

Lindsey grabs a smoky eyeshadow and starts applying it.

“Linds…” Sonnett’s hand reaching across to her opposite hip is insistent enough to make Lindsey turn to face her. 

“It’s fine, Son.”

“Stop putting on your make up. We’re not going.”

“But you had to pull strings to get us this reservation.”

“Ok, so I’ll unpull them.”

“You can’t unpull a string, Sonnett.” And it’s true, just like Lindsey can’t take back what she says to Sonnett once she’s said it. _If_ she says it. The words can’t ever be taken back once they’ve been unleashed in their world. And suddenly, dinner seems like it might be a better idea. 

“It’s not like I’m ever going to lose my clout here. My jersey’s in Waffle House. I’m the pride of Marietta, Georgia.” Sonnett puffs her chest a little at that, and rubs Lindsey shoulders reassuringly. “I’d talk to you any day over going out for a fancy dinner. And you know, I’ve got the most perfect place to talk in the whole state of Georgia right here.” She grabs a makeup wipe and starts to wipe off Lindsey’s eyeshadow. “You just might be the only woman in the world who’s even more beautiful without the makeup on.” Sonnett says in almost a whisper, her voice as gentle as her hand.

This time, Lindsey knows Sonnett can see her blush, no darkness to hide it. 

“Come on,” she grabs a sweatshirt and tosses it to Lindsey, then slips on her slides. 

“Where are we going?” Lindsey asks, but Sonnett ignores her.

“This?” Lindsey questions her. “This is the best place to talk in the whole state of Georgia?”

Sonnett sits down on the porch swing and Lindsey has no choice but to follow her lead. “It is. Some very important conversations have taken place on this swing.”

“Like?”

“Like this is where I spent hours on summer nights with my sister, talking about boys, which led me to realize I’m gay. This is where my mom told me she’d love me no matter what. This is where my dad sat me down and told me he was proud of me for the first time. One of the only times. This is where I was when I realized I had fallen in love.”

That’s not exactly what Lindsey wants to hear right now.

They sit there, rocking, as the sun slowly sets. Their silence envelops them like the darkness does – unhurriedly – and they fall into that place of comfort with each other that they used to have. Not physically; it’s more that the feeling is in the air, still and not electric. Sonnett rests her head on Lindsey’s shoulder. “Swing’s good for conversations without words, too,” she adds in the silence, soothingly, sensing Lindsey’s anxiety. 

Emily takes Lindsey’s hand in hers, and Lindsey’s knows it’s meant to calm her. Knows it _should_ calm her. Knows any other time, it _would_ calm her. Except tonight, all she can focus on is the sweatiness of her palm and how her hand dwarfs Sonnett’s and how holding Sonnett’s hand is one of the best things in the world. Better than kissing anyone she’s ever kissed. So good that she wishes she could do it for the rest of her life.

Instead, they keep rocking, the hushed metallic sounds of the chain link alternating with the creaking of the swing at every high point. Eventually, that, predictability, is calming, too.

Sonnett agrees with Lindsey’s silent thoughts. “Could quieten it. Some pillow bearings. Or some grease. But I like the sound. It’s always sounded like this. Like a constant in my life. I always come back, and this swing right here is home.”

Lindsey gets it, but only because Sonnett is that to her. Quietly steady. Her endless supply of good memories. Always going to be home for her. 

“I, um, there’s this thing… I’ve thought about telling you, but also not telling you,” Lindsey starts slowly, “And I don’t know what to do. Because the last thing I want is lose you as a friend. Your friendship is the most important thing in the whole world to me. I’m so afraid I’ll scare you away. But also, I can’t hardly sleep anymore. And I just feel, all the time, like I’m barely hanging on. Like I’m about to fall into this abyss. Like it’s just this constant struggle to hang on, and I don’t know what to do.” Lindsey can feel the panic rising in her chest. She’s sure Sonnett can hear it in her voice.

“Linds, it’s just me.” That soft, hoarse voice always gets her.

“Sonny, I don’t know how to say this,” Lindsey whispers. And she doesn’t. She can’t find the words, at least not the ones she wants. But she also can’t just sit here and do mothing, letting this internal battle continue. The feelings are real, of that, she’s sure. And they’re not going away. It’s too painful. The what if is too painful. “I’ve- I’ve had a little crush on you for awhile now. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, even when we’re apart. _Especially_ when we’re apart, I guess. And that’s why I was in a bad mood the other day, because I found out you and Kelley were going to spend the night at your place and I- ”

If Lindsey had stopped talking long enough to take a breath, to let Sonnet speak, her mind already would have been at ease. But she brought up Kelley, and Sonnett can’t let that go. “You thought we were hooking up?” She knows Sonnett’s biting her lip because she’s trying not to laugh.

“Um, maybe? Yeah.”

Sonnett sputters at how funny that is to her. “Linds, she has a girlfriend. I would never. _She_ would never.”

“Yeah, I know that. _Now_.”

“Oh my God. _She_ knows you thought that? Lindsey, she’s never going to let you live it down.” Lindsey tries to open her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. “Sorry for ya,” Sonnett shakes her head.

“Sonnett!” Lindsey can’t believe that she’s being left hanging like this.

“What?” Sonnett asks, half sounding like she’s clueless, half incredulous. Then softer, she adds, “You have no reason to be jealous of Kelley.”

“Well, yeah, I mean, I know,” Lindsey kind of stumbles over the words, because she doesn’t _really_ know. Just because Kelley has a girlfriend doesn’t mean that it doesn’t go one-way.

And once again, it’s like Sonnett can read her mind, just like she used to. “I mean it, Linds. Cause same, ya know?”

Oh my god. Lindsey feels like she just poured her heart out to Sonnett and all she gets back is “same.” Lindsey wants to be frustrated with that, be a little perturbed even, but Sonnett turns into Lindsey, wrapping an arm across her stomach and cuddling under her chin, and well, it’s just hard to be mad at her like that. Even if she wanted to, she can hardly think anymore. So they keep rocking. And the sounds of the katydids and the treefrogs join in with the sound of the chain link, like there’s a night symphony performing just for the two of them.

Sonnett finally breaks the silence. “Linds, you have been tugging on my heartstrings for years, to the point where I’ve felt so messed up, so tangled up and knotted inside where I don’t even know what do think or do anymore. Every time you look at me, I feel like you could just take me out with those eyes of yours. They go right through me. They _know_ me. _You_ know me. And your smile is home to me, too. Like a perfect Sunday. Church. Supper. Nothing but sweet, sweet time. Easy, like you’re all I need.”

“You’re all I need too, Sonny.” And finally – finally – Lindsey tips Sonnett’s chin up to kiss her. Softly. Shyly. Until Sonnett’s lips give her to confidence she needs to be sure that Sonnett is sure. She doesn’t even know anymore how long she’s been waiting to do that.

“Will you just stay for Thanksgiving, please?” Sonnett asks when their lips finally separate. My Nana keeps asking when I’m gonna bring a nice boy home for the holidays and I’d like to introduce her to this nice girl I know.”

“Um, you think that’s a good idea?” Lindsey asks, kinda shocked Sonnett would ever suggest introducing Lindsey to her extended family. It’s also kinda cute.

“Yeah. She doesn’t care. She loves me. She’ll love you. Just say y’all. And call it dressing, not stuffing. We don’t make stuffing. And eat the damn sweet potatoes and act like you like them.”

Lindsey figures she can do all of that. And honestly, her parents like Sonnett so much that they’ll get over not having her home for Thanksgiving. Probably. 

“Could’ve just gone on our date,” Sonnett mutters. “Would’ve been a nice spot for a first date. So romantic. I knew you were crushing on me. That’s why I planned it, but then you had to be all serious.”

Lindsey rolls her eyes. “So pull those strings again, Ms. Pride of Marietta.”

Sonnett lets out a half chuckle. “Nah, this is a good spot for a first date.”

“This is not a date. You still have to take me on a real date. Emily Sonnett, I will not settle for less than I deserve in this relationship. Don’t forget that.” Sonnett’s grin matches hers, she’s positive. 

“Fine, princess. Not a date.”

“Don’t call me princess.”

Sonnett rolls her eyes bigger than Lindsey. “Pumpkin? Sugar pie? Love bug? Sunshine? Honey? Angel?”

Lindsey doesn’t cringe at that last one.

“This porch swing has another good memory, now,” Sonnett squeezes her hand. “Maybe another first, too.”

“What’s that?”

“Last first kiss,” Sonnett says, like it’s no big deal. “You never know.”

 _Could be_ , Lindsey thinks. _You never know._


End file.
